You Weren't There
by theboardwalkbody
Summary: One shot set during season 1 from the perspective of an OC. Murphy returns to camp after being banished and deals with those who he feels wronged him.


I was out scavenging for food and supplies when Murphy was put on trial, if you could call it that, for allegedly killing Welles. All I knew was that when I left camp Welles was on watch and Murphy was asleep in his tent and by the time I got back Welles was dead, Charlotte was dead, and Murphy was banished after an attempted lynching. Knowing him he was most likely still close by, seething and vowing revenge. This did not bode well. Sure, Murphy was no Grounder, but he was still as dangerous as an unleashed, rabid dog. After Clarke explained to me what happened I put down what little I had found and headed for the woods when no one was looking. I don't know what I was thinking, there wasn't exactly anything I could do at this point - Murphy was banished, I couldn't bring him back, and I sure as hell wasn't staying out in Grounder territory for his sorry ass. I wouldn't call us friends, but I wouldn't say I hated his company, either. He was an asshole and I knew it but there was something about him that attracted me to him at the same time.

I searched until exhaustion threatened to overtake me. Exhausted in Grounder territory was a death wish, well, simply being out in Grounder territory was a death wish. There was no sign of him so I returned back to the drop ship. After three days of him not showing up seeking his revenge on Bellamy and the others for trying to hang him and of me seeing no sign of him out in the woods I gave up.

* * *

><p>For a germaphobe this Hemorrhagic Fever was a nightmare. When I wished Murphy would come back I didn't want him to return carrying some 98% communicability Grounder Super Virus. I guess beggar's can't be chooser's. Octavia spotted him outside the gate and took him in. I saw him as they carried him inside the drop ship; he looked like he'd been dragged through Hell. It was odd what I felt in that moment, I was simultaneously relieved that he was back; that he was alive, but I was also terrified of what happened to him; worried that his wounds would prove too much and destroy him. I ran into the drop ship, I wanted to see him, to talk to him. I was kicked out before I could get near him. He was still technically banished, and now, because he returned, he was a prisoner.<p>

It didn't take long for the fever to kick in and spread. We started dropping like flies. Some of us died within the first half hour. Octavia ran out to find her Grounder ally, Lincoln, when she returned she came back with both good and bad news. Good news, the virus passes and you won't die if your body is strong enough to fight it. Bad news, the Grounders were planning an attack at dawn. Awesome. I tried to isolate myself, my fear of getting sick was almost crippling, I didn't care if it would pass. Even if it only lasted a few hours it was still a few hours I didn't want to experience. Besides, I was worried about whether or not I even could fight it. Yeah, I was otherwise healthy, but you never know what fate has in store for you.

My isolation was fruitless. Apparently the short moment or two I was in the drop ship was enough for whatever Murphy brought back with him to reach me. That and the exposure from being outside around everyone before we realized how quickly this could spread. I passed out in my tent and it took a while for anyone to notice. If it wasn't for Jasper coming by and asking me how I was I probably would have had to suffer it out there by myself, but I got lucky and I was brought to the drop ship, only semi-conscious.

"Elodie?" I heard someone say, or at least I thought I did. It sounded far away, almost like I was dreaming it. The last thing I was aware of was the feeling of a wet cloth on my head.

My vision swam and was tinged pink when my consciousness came back. I rubbed my eyes, the action taking all my strength. When I pulled my hands away they had smears of blood on them. Great. Pretty sure I've had nightmares about this kind of thing. I put my hands down and next thing I knew my whole body was retching and the violent taste of copper filled my mouth. I didn't have the strength to turn over and I started choking. Thankfully it didn't take long for someone to come over and pull me up onto my side. When the retching stopped I caught my breath, and went to wipe the blood from my mouth and chin. A wet rag beat me to it.

"Welcome back, Pyro." I heard my sick-bed attendant say. I knew who it was. Only Murphy called me that. Set one fire on the Ark by accident and suddenly you're a pyromaniac. And this ass just couldn't let it go. "Jerk." I croaked hoarsely. "Now that's not nice, I'm trying to help." He said, obviously he was feeling better because all the snark was back in his voice.  
>"Shut up." I tried to push him away but all I succeeded in doing was lifting my hand about 8 inches off my make-shift bed and having it land on his lap.<br>"If you're that happy to see me I think you should at least wait until you stop puking up your own blood. Bit of a turn off." He said, and if I'd had the energy to look at him I'd have probably seen the smirk that was undoubtedly on his face.  
>"God, I hate you." I whispered. I was so tired and I was falling back into sleep.<br>"Hate you, too." he replied.

I passed out again after that. The next time I woke up he was tending to one of the other sick guys. I sat up, I still felt weak but it was a thousand times better than how I felt earlier. I rubbed my face to find I wasn't caked in dried blood. Apparently Murphy had remained attentive even after I passed out. Looking around the drop ship looked pretty cleared out. There were three of us left in here, including myself, that Murphy was attending to, but other than that it looked like everyone else has pretty much gotten over the fever and left. My body felt like it had the shit kicked out of it but I stood. Murphy noticed and walked over to me.

"You good?" he asked, extending a hand out to me. I pushed it away, "I'm fine."  
>He shrugged and went to turn away. It was the first time I was able to get a good look at him since he got back. His left eye was swollen and every inch of exposed skin was caked in dried blood. His hair was matted, his clothes ripped. "What happened to you, Murphy?" I asked.<br>"Grounders." was the curt answer he gave.  
>"But what did they do to you?" I probed.<br>"Don't worry about it, Els." he walked away without another word, leaving me to regain my balance by myself and walk myself off the drop ship and back to my tent.

It was already dark, probably well after midnight, when I woke up from yet another nap feeling almost back to normal. I felt gross being in the same, blood-stained, dirty clothes and hated there was nothing I could do about it. I sat up, rubbed my neck, and lit the small make-shift lantern I'd managed to make out of old opaque plastic I'd found on the drop ship, a metal cap, and some dried sticks I kept nearby. The light lit up the small tent and made it feel a bit less lonely.

I stood, figuring I'd try taking my shirt off and scraping the dried blood off it at least but I didn't get that far. I'd only managed to get my jacket off before Murphy barged into my tent, almost like he was waiting to see my lantern turn on. He was seething, I could sense it, it was like his anger was radiating off of him. Before I could register what he was doing he had grabbed my shirt and pulled me against his body, his lips crashing onto mine. I don't really know what I was thinking or what I was even feeling but I let it happen. He pulled away, his breathing was heavy and made his chest heave with every breath, and his eyes bore into mine. He blew out the light from my lantern and wasted no time grabbing my shirt and pulling it up over my head and then pushing me down onto the small bed I'd made for myself and straddling my waist.

Whatever this was, wherever it came from it was fueled by this ferocity within him. It wasn't at all slow or sensual or tender like you usually take things with a new partner. Instead it was quick, and it was rough. His kisses almost hurt he was pressing his lips into mine so roughly. At some point I think my tooth got pressed too hard against my lip because I tasted blood again. And here I thought I was done with that.

He got off of me only long enough to pull my pants and underwear off in one movement. He spread my legs and exposed me to him, drinking in the sight of me as he undid his own pants enough to free his erection. He didn't stop, didn't give us a chance to breathe or think about what was happening, he just positioned himself between my legs and entered me. I bit my lip again to keep from screaming out. It'd been so long since I did this with anyone and I wasn't used to the feeling anymore. I took a deep breath and opened my eyes. His head was buried in the crook of my neck and he was alternating between taking heavy breaths and biting at the skin beneath his mouth. I grabbed at the ripped, dirty, thin fabric of his shirt with one hand and the other knotted into his tangled and matting hair. His thrusts were quick and hard and I knew I'd have bruises from this. At this point I didn't care anymore.

"Murphy." I moaned.

Saying his name out loud snapped something in him. Maybe it was the same thing that made him come in here in the first place, I don't know, but he sat up so his body was no longer flush against mine and he was now thrusting into me from a more upright position instead. As he sat up he wrapped a hand around my neck and squeezed. I couldn't breathe. I tried and got nothing. Just a rasping, unsuccessful, gasping sound. I tried saying his name but couldn't get past "M -".

"Where were you?" He asked, almost loud enough to draw attention from outside the tent. I still couldn't answer him. "You weren't there. They were going to kill me and you weren't there to say shit!" He seethed.  
>I grabbed at his wrist. I needed air. He took the hint and let up his grip enough for me to take a few gasping breaths. "Murphy," I gasped. "I couldn't have known - "<br>His gripped tightened again. "You weren't there to help me!" he repeated in a vicious whisper. "You. Weren't. There."

His grip slacked as he came and he pulled his hand off my throat. He collapsed on top of me but didn't get up and leave like I would have thought he would have. He stayed, his head resting on my chest. It was surprised when I realized he was actually crying.

"You weren't there." He whispered one last time, his voice hoarse from the sobs he was trying to suppress. "I'm sorry, Murphy." I said, running my hand through his hair. I placed a kiss on top of his head and he fell asleep. I stayed there, thinking of what happened for a while before I fell asleep one last time that night.

When I woke up the next morning he was gone. I dressed and went out to find him. I saw a bunch of people standing around the drop ship, the metal door of the ship was closed - something it hadn't been since we landed. I saw Jasper with Clarke at the forefront of the group and asked them what was going on. Apparently Jasper had been held hostage by Murphy until Bellamy traded places with him. All that registered was "He killed -, he has a gun -, going to kill Bellamy."

God damn it. Here we go again, huh, Murphy?


End file.
